


Ruined

by canthelpmyselves



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-17 08:40:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21264209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canthelpmyselves/pseuds/canthelpmyselves
Summary: Mick thinks about his relationship with Barry.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Mick Rory
Comments: 6
Kudos: 84





	Ruined

Mick Rory was a man of simple needs. Simple tastes. His idea of a perfect evening was a cold beer, football and a hard fuck. He wasn’t particular about brands, teams or gender, either. He just wanted to get drunk, see someone tackled and slide into a warm body. 

At least, that’s what he used to like.

Then along came this skinny, geeky, rambling hero with too much speed, too little self-preservation and no filter, whatsoever. 

Normally Barry Allen was the type of person Mick would avoid. The kid was a walking, talking disaster. He talked too much. He moved too fast. He never shut up or sat down. He tripped over his own feet, often at superspeed. He was cavity-inducingly sweet. He was so optimistic, he made Ray Palmer look like the poster boy for depression.

Honestly, Mick couldn’t stand the Flash. Always interfering with Mick’s attempts to make money, he was a thorn in the Rogue’s side. 

Barry was a different story. He had somehow managed to weasel his way under Mick’s skin. 

It started with an anger-fueled fuck behind Saints and Sinners during a stop-over from a Legends mission. Both of them were pissed off, ran into one another and the next thing he knew, he had the hero on his knees in the alley, plowing that ass. A month later Barry was brought in for a mission and they spent most of their downtime fucking in whatever empty room they could find. Against a wall in the fabrication room, bent over the kitchen table, even once in Rip’s old office where they accidentally set the rug on fire when Barry’s vibrations got out of hand.

A few months after that, the Legends were in 2022 and Barry came to him, knowing he would be on look-out duty while Sara and Constantine spied on some diplomats. They almost got caught that time. Barry was blowing him when Haircut decided to relieve him. If the idiot hadn’t tripped coming up the stairs, he’d have walked in just as Mick shot his load all over Barry’s face. As it was, the speedster was able to finish him off, clean him up, then speed away just two seconds before the door of the storage room opened.

After that, Mick made it a priority to look Barry up whenever they were in Central, no matter what year it was. Barry having his own Gideon meant that he knew where and when to find Mick, and made it a habit to contact him at least once a week to see if he wanted to get together. Mick hadn’t turned him down once. 

Mick sighed and looked at the man currently curled up beside him on the bed. Three rounds of sex had exhausted the speedster, for now. He had a slight smile on his face, fading bite marks around his nipples and faint finger-shaped bruises on his hips. 

Staring at Barry, Mick knew he wasn’t a man of simple tastes anymore. He still liked cold beer and football. He still didn’t give a damn about brands or teams. But now he only had the urge to fuck one body. To kiss one set of lips. To hear a certain voice whisper dirty things in his ear. 

Barry fucking Allen. He’s ruined Mick for anyone else.

But damned if he can find it in himself to care.


End file.
